Outside the Pentacle
by saltaire
Summary: What if Kitty had taken Bartimaeus up on the offer to step outside the pentacle and put herself in his power? Bart's just a big old softy, right? Well, things might not go exactly as she expects. Set in Ptolemy's Gate. (No pairings or wishful thinking!)


**Some of the dialogue has been adapted from Jonathan Shroud. But all Bartimaeus belongs to him! (Well, I should say, Bartimaeus belongs to himself, of course. Shroud is just the scribe, right?)**

A/N: In the conversation this story is based on, Bartimaeus seemed a little too nice to me. He let a lot of stuff go past in his conversation with her, without kicking up too much fuss! But I suspect it's because he was under her power and was just trying to get away as speedily as possible. Which raises the question, what if Kitty had actually stepped out of the pentacle when he challenged her? What would have happened?

In this story, Bartimaeus more like the djinni his background says he ought to be: thousands of years old, not terribly interested in humans, unlikely to put himself too much on the line even for one he thinks isn't too bad, more like the devouring spirit he keeps on hinting he is.

Also, Kitty seems to think a little too highly of herself, in my opinion (not that that fault's unique to her!). But I think this is a more realistic scenario of how it might have played out.

* * *

Kitty summoned me.

I'm sure you understand how irritating that was. I had just made it back to the Other Place and was looking forward to a much-needed and well-deserved rest, and suddenly there I was, being dragged back to Earth to await the whims of another human.

When I arrived and saw who had done it, I calmed down a bit. After all, she wasn't the worst thing that could have happened to me, and the novelty of the situation was enough to distract me from its enraging qualities for several minutes. We made a little chitchat. It was interesting, sure, that she summoned me all by herself. Slightly flattering to be the djinni picked for her first go (I'm not too bad of a choice, I daresay). Very unflattering that she chose me because she thinks - of all things - that I'm "not scary"! Excuse me?

And then came the kicker: she proposed some ridiculous idea about equality between humans and djinn. I am a magnanimous spirit; I can afford some patience. But not when my essence is sapped, I really want to get back home, and I'm faced with a load of tripe.

I told her as much. Equality? Maybe we'd been in similar positions the first time we met, but this time?

"This time, one of us, i.e. _moi,_ is still a victim, still a slave. As for the other one... she's changed sides."

She contradicted me. "No."

"She's a turncoat-"

"I'm not-"

"A two-timing backstabber-"

"Bartim-"

I overrode her protestations and gave her an earful. "You're a conniving, treacherous, opportunistic, false-faced traitor, who's taken it upon herself to add to my endless years of slavery!" was the essence of it, I believe. Her protests and niceties to the side, that's exactly how it was. Could I get away? No. Could I refuse her if she actually demanded something? No.

And then she had the gall to sneer at me when, in my anger, I touched the edge of the pentacle and suffered a sharp scorching.

What a brat.

I switched tack and decided on condescending instead of accusing (it provokes a similar but different response). Anything to get her off this nonsense and let me go.

"The whole idea is ridiculous. Equality is impossible between humans and djinn. You are young and foolish, so perhaps I shouldn't be too hard on you, but the notion is misguided. I have known a hundred masters over five thousand years, and whether their pentacles have been drawn on the desert sand or on the turf-moss of the steppe, the enmity between me and my summoners has been great and everlasting. So it has always been. So it shall always be." That enough for you, Kitty?

And then she had the nerve to bring up Ptolemy.

I was rather upset. First, that she knew about him at all. Second, that she was trying to use him as emotional manipulation against me. My rage rose like a whirlwind. There was a lot of thunder and wind in the room, giving ways to glittering stars and sands that stretched until they snapped, leaving only empty space... Just let me say, when you summon a djinn by name, you bring all their history along with them. It's best to tread lightly.

When I got myself back under control, I tried to put her off Ptolemy, but then she recovered too, and she wouldn't have any of it.

I do want to take a minute here to bellyache. You do notice she's not letting me get a word in edgewise, right? Along with the few punishments she's sent at me. Goodness knows why I haven't retaliated yet. Definitely not in my best form right now. But this is the benefit to being able to think several different topics simultaneously; I can have a good rant in the peace of my own mind and still handle the conversation with what I consider to be great aplomb, given the nonsense of it.

For her to think that in a few minutes she could leap the span of trust that Ptolemy had built with me over years, after countless repetitions of magnanimity and trust (but _I_ could count them, they were precious memories) - why, it staggers belief. Any magician can say anything they want, and we djinn learned thousands of years ago not to trust them. How fast can you, a puny one-plane human, learn to avoid the dog down the street after it bites you the second time? Now how fast do you think a fourth-level djinni like myself will learn, when the bites and jabs are multiplied by hundreds of cruel, petty masters over thousands of years? I hope you see the cynicism is warranted. Magicians make all kinds of promises. The most common false promise is to let you leave after you finish the chat, the last task, whatever… and of course they always renege on it. But there's no drawback if they don't, so why should they? Any time a magician keeps his word, it's shocking enough to make a djinn trip over his own feet on the Dismissal.

So, back to this ludicrous proposal. Humans and djinn? Working together? She expected me to sign my name on the dotted line after a mere five-minute demonstration of adolescent flightiness, not to mention undeserved punishments? You've got to be kidding me. I'm no stranger to ulterior motives, and Kitty didn't look like she had too many, but I wouldn't put that in her favor. She didn't have any ulterior motives, because she was just as stupid and naive as they come.

She was a commoner, is what she was. Any real magician had been raised on the stories of smudged chalk lines and devourings since they were old enough to crawl. They had no such foolish ideas. They knew all demons were bad and treated them accordingly.

And Kitty seemed to think that she had a bit more leeway than them, for exactly that reason. "I knew you wouldn't harm me if I made any little mistake," were her exact words. Because she wasn't a bad person or an evil magician and I, _Bartimaeus,_ wouldn't hurt a nice girl like her, would I? Ridiculous, of course... But to be honest, I wasn't certain she was _completely wrong._ Any true magician, of course, I would have devoured in an instant, without hesitation, had so much as a single hair drifted over the line. Well, no, I take that back. It's good to have a little bit of a dramatic ending. After all, the last few moments of revenge is so sweet, it's better to drag them out a little bit. It almost makes up for every minute of enslavement...

But Kitty wasn't a true magician, and my feelings on the matter were a bit mixed. She had a lovely vitality, that was for sure. I guessed that she would have a very savory flavor if I consumed her. With a bright burst of black pepper, perhaps, and a tangy aftertaste... But she hadn't exactly done anything to me besides summon me. Did she really deserve to be devoured at the first - as she put it - little mistake?

At this point, I decided, not quite yet. But let her keep harping on Ptolemy and acting like a smug puppy, and the (certain) benefits of eating her would quite outweigh the (negligible) moral quibbles.

She had just laid out the "I summoned you" thing as if it were a starry accomplishment, comparable to the difficulty of joining humans and djinn in a marvelous alliance. Of all the rubbish-! It was time to clear some things up.

"Utterly irrelevant. Let me tell you something. I've been sitting here, talking nicely, keeping pretty manners as a djinni will, but all the time I've been watching you like a hawk, waiting to see if you stuck so much as a toe outside the circle. If you had, I'd have been onto you faster than blinking, and you'd have learned something about humans and demons then, I can tell you."

"Yeah?" Ooh, did that sneer on her face make me want to skin it right off. "Instead of which you stuck your own stupid toe out and blew your skirt off. Which more or less sums up your last few thousand years. You're going nowhere on your own, pal."

Oh, she was going to get it now. Besides the fact that I have no choice in the matter, for her to ridicule my thousands of years of enslavement, when she had barely got twelve to her name - no, make that five, judging by mental ability - was intolerable.

I had no real blood, not while I was merely assuming Ptolemy's form, but long years of practice at the human body had ingrained a few responses into my being. I felt my face whiten, the muscles at my neck tighten and strain, my whole body quiver. Sheer rage.

"Is that so?" I spat. "Well, let me get on to the second reason why your plan's a dud, shall I? Even if I wanted to help you, even if a hundred other djinn almost as potent as me shared that sentiment and wanted nothing better than to cast their lot in with some oat-brained humans" - even in my range I was moderating my insults, she was only stupid, not cruel - "we couldn't. Because the only way we can come to Earth is through summoning. And that means losing free will. It means pain. It means obeying your master. And there's no equality in that equation."

"Rubbish," Kitty blurted, making my eyebrows shoot up with incredulity. "It doesn't have to be that way."

"Of course it does. What's the alternative? Every summons binds us. That's what they do. Would you seek some way to let us off the leash? With our power? Would you be happy to give us control?"

"Of course! If that was what it took."

I could scarce believe it. "You wouldn't!" What a hypocrite the girl was. "Not in a million years!"

"I would. If the trust was there, I'd do it."

And suddenly I realized what a brilliant opportunity this was.

 _Oh yeah, Kitty?_

"Is that so?" My rage was fast diminishing, replaced by a sudden eager bloodlust. It would have sent my heart leaping, if I'd had one. "Well, why not prove it right now? Step out of your pentacle."

"What?"

Her sudden blanch warmed my cold, dark soul.

 _Take that, puppy!_

"You heard me well enough. Step out, across those lines." I followed her instinctive gaze. "Yes, those ones right there. Let's see this trust of yours in action, shall we? Give _me_ power for a moment. Let's see you put your money where your mouth is."

I was already talking too fast. My voice was rising in pitch and volume with excitement. I could hardly help it. She was a terribly proud girl, and she had just handed me the perfect lever to maneuver her with. Now, if only she wouldn't cave and back down!

I sprang to my feet. The ultimatum was down. I hoped I hadn't started to drool.

I hadn't been this eager for a result in ages. Outwitting magicians is an ongoing pastime, of course, but this was a unique situation. Every magician who makes a mistake is always _tricked_ into it. They don't see it coming, that's the whole point. No _serious_ magician would ever _seriously_ contemplate stepping outside a pentacle on a djinni's challenge... That's why this was so interesting. If I won this one, I'd be telling it to astonished and admiring spirits for the next few hundred years.

(Or maybe I wouldn't. There was a hint of guilt back there, something about taking advantage of Ptolemy's good example to undermine another human, but I simply flicked the idea aside. I could muse on that later. This was now.)

Kitty stood too, as much an instinctive fear response to my own movement as a conscious choice. It's the prey response: can't be caught sitting if the hunter's got his feet under him, can you?

But wait, wait. With some effort I pulled myself together. My eagerness would only put her off; I must not scare her now, not in this most crucial of moments. I arranged a smile on my face, trying to fit some retroactive affability into my challenge.

It was no good. My emotions were racing, and I knew she saw the contempt in my eyes. She would never step outside, of course. Her paltry fool's visions were collapsing under the first slap of reality, and worst, it was her own cowardice and hypocrisy - not anyone else's - bringing them down around her ears! I watched her face intently to see the inevitable clash between her worldview and her own pride.

The seconds stretched. The internal battle was taking a bit long for my taste. "Well?" I prompted. "How about it?"

That spurred her into saying something. "You've just told me about what you would do to me if I broke the protections. You said you'd fall upon me faster than blinking."

Oh, was that what was disturbing her? Damn right it should, too. That's what should have been on her mind since the beginning. (I still felt a little ruffled about being thought of as "not scary.")

"Oh, don't pay any attention to _that._ I was only bluffing." It wouldn't be faster than a blink. If I could restrain myself with some proper table manners, I could stretch things out a little. I could spend some individual time on each of her joints. "You don't need to believe everything old Bartimaeus says, now _do_ you? I'm always joking, you know that."

Surprisingly, I was torn. On one claw, I wanted her to see through the guise, to see my hatred and contempt for her false hopes, for her refusal to acknowledge my pain. I wanted her to be afraid. And at the same time, on the other claw, I wanted to pull the wool right over her eyes. Let her believe. Her essence would speed up my recovery considerably.

And… suddenly a thought occured to me, nudging aside the long habits of devouring. No human except Ptolemy had ever taken me up on an offer to step outside the pentacle. Wouldn't it be unbeholden to his memory to devour the next human that tried - however ill-intentioned - to do so? Shouldn't I put off the final decision on Kitty's fate until after she actually, well, made the step?

All these thoughts and desires flickered by in an instant.

"Go _on,"_ I pressed her. "I won't do anything to you. Put yourself in my power for a moment. You might be surprised." We both might be, for that matter. "Put your trust in me."

I broadened my smile in an attempt to win her over, but I was no longer able to contain my eagerness. My warring desires - to crush her hypocrisy if she stayed, to devour her if she moved, and even just to know what she would choose - must have shown a little too much on my face. My muscles were trembling with the exertion of containing myself.

She wet her dry lips, and looked down at the chalk marks on the floor. Then at her foot, then at the chalk. Judging the distance, I suppose. Nerving herself up.

"That's the ticket," I said encouragingly. Too much more of this and I was either going to fall on my knees and beg her to do it, or turn into a wrathful beast and start raging. (Still in my circle, of course.)

She was clearly at war with herself. I watched with devouring interest - yes, it was going to devour me as much as I was going to devour her - and for the first time, truly allowed myself to hope. It might actually happen! I kept quiet. The time for words had ended; any other sentence might snap her out of her little meditation.

Her hand spasmed; good, the muscles were working. Some command in her puny brain was obviously forming.

And then she moved.

I would not have dreamed it possible in a thousand years. (It had been more than two thousand since Ptolemy, of course. And then it had been different.)

The chalk scuffed as she set her foot down. She barely made a mark on the floor, you wouldn't have been able to tell unless you were down there with a magnifying glass, or unless you were a djinn who could clearly feel the magical bindings threatening and constraining you at every instant. But there it was: one foot, firmly outside the limits of safety.

My bindings evaporated. I felt them fizzle away into nothingness. I was free.

I couldn't believe it. It had actually worked!

And now, she was _mine._

The moment you know you have your master in your power is one of the sweetest things there is. I decided I'd savor this one a little bit.

With a sharp puff, I exhaled the breath I hadn't known I was holding, and at the same time, so did she; but mine turned into a chuckle, and her head jerked up from where she'd been staring at her own foot. Her eyes were as wide as saucer cups.

"Oh, Kitty," I sighed, and stepped gracefully out of my own pentacle. She jumped despite herself, and I broke into a broad smile. "You cannot understand how grateful I am to you. That wasn't hard, was it? A little movement, almost nothing. But now, look!" I spread my arms out wide and did a little twirl. Stopping, I cocked my head at her. "So, how does it feel now? To be on... _equal terms_?"

Of course they weren't equal. I could crush her like a gnat. That's the thing about humans and djinn. No matter what kind of relationship it is, it can never be equal. The power differential is always immense. And clearly she hadn't thought that far.

My menacing tone completely blew the false cover off my words; I couldn't help it. You can't expect me to go from righteous fury to Mr. Nice And _Not Scary_ at the flick of a switch, can you? Just because some foolish human has decided to follow one of their own whims?

She could tell something had gone wrong, but she was desperate not to admit it. Ah, the self-delusions of humanity have always amused me.

"Okay, I've demonstrated trust," Kitty said, and I remarked (to myself) on the determination she still managed to get into her voice. "It can work! Now what do you say to my proposal, Bartimaeus?"

"That it's rubbish."

"What? No! I just proved to you that I can trust you! I just stepped outside the circle!" Woo, her voice was rising as fast as an imp with an Inferno under his bottom. I sidled forward; she stepped back.

"All you proved was that you can override your survival instincts to force yourself to make silly errors," I returned amicably. I could afford to be amicable now. All the power was in my hands, wasn't it?

"But, Bartimaeus..." Her face contorted between anger and fear. "This was part of the deal! Your challenge! You said you wouldn't do anything to me! You asked me to trust you!" She roused, suddenly angry. "You lied!"

"As you say." I grinned, and folded my hands behind my back. As gestures go, this was more threatening, not less. "Who warned you not to trust demons?" I stepped forward, kicked a bowl of rosemary into the corner of the room. "Wicked, scheming, clever little devils." With a dramatic flourish, I tweaked two curling ram's horns into existence. "Taking any opportunity they can get, that's us."

"What about Ptolemy?" she gasped, now looking at the door. But I was closer to it than her. I deviated from my path briefly to grasp the knob. In a few seconds, the brass melted under my touch, and hot, molten metal dripped through my fingers to the floor.

"You were saying?"

The door shook her. She was getting even paler. Good! The significance of her situation was finally coming home. I arched my back, releasing a ripple of spikes along my spine.

"Ptolemy!" she pleaded. "You said you trusted him, and he trusted you. It doesn't matter if he's one out of millions. If it was done once, it can be done again! If, if-" She stepped on another bowl of herbs and staggered, caught herself against the wall, and stood up again quickly. I watched, implacable. "If you eat me," she blurted out, "it would ruin that! You - we - have another chance to make a djinn-human relationship work again, and you're ruining it! You'll probably never get another chance like this!"

"And who says," I snarled, "that I'd even want such a relationship? With a small-minded, hypocritical, naive little fool, who I've met only twice, once in an alleyway and once enslaving me? And who says I'd want to save all humankind anyway? Who says I don't want to get rid of all of you, and then I can be _certain_ about never getting enslaved again! You bring up Ptolemy. A great soul! A statistical speck in the seething mass that is the rest of you benighted miseries. Is honoring his memory worth making nice with the rest of humanity?"

While talking, I slowly made my way across the room, taking my time. She had backed herself into a corner now and had nowhere left to go. Plenty fine by me. An arm's length away, I drew up and halted. My face was red with anger. Hers, as white as chalk. She made a little choking noise, but no words were forthcoming. Too bad. She might have had something interesting to say.

"I think not," I said, and reached for her throat.

"Please!" she shrieked, making to bat my hand away. "Please! I haven't made you do anything. I was going to let you go! Can't you just leave me and go?"

I pretended to consider it for a moment. "But… I haven't consumed a human in years. You lot are so delicious." At this, I grabbed her wrist and dragged her out from the corner.

She twisted suddenly, yanked her wrist out of my hand, and then jumped at me, swinging a fist. I admit, with running not an option, it was a spunky move. But she didn't realize how solid we djinn are under our guises. Instead of knocking me over, she staggered back, and tumbled to the floor.

"Why are you so hateful, demon?" she screamed, struggling to her feet again and wringing her hand where it had connected ineffectually with my face. Not willing to go down without a fight, clearly.

I bared my teeth. "You said it yourself! Humans have enslaved us, mocked us, and tortured us for millennia. Who wouldn't get a little upset? Don't you think?"

"But we could change it!" she said. "I read the books! I did the research! You were friends, Bartimaeus, you loved him, I can read between the lines-"

I cuffed her on the head, knocking her over again. (It was a pretty light cuff, but she was a bit of a lightweight.) "Don't bring him into this," I snapped. "As I told you, he was an exception. What do I know of you? In fact, what I do know is that you're full of foolish ideas. And in fact, the only reason I _haven't_ devoured you yet is that your ideas are the most astonishing I've come across in two thousand years! I mean, how often does that come along?"

I gathered my wits again. "But I really do want to get back to the Other Place. My essence needs to heal. And you're going to be a great help to me with that. Really, you are. See? Just like you wanted. Human and djinn working together on a noble goal."

"Fine, then." This time she didn't get up from the floor. "Just go ahead and kill me, and leave. And you can remember it as the only other time someone actually did trust you enough - believed you! - to step outside the pentacle, and you betrayed them." She was quivering, but when I looked a bit closer, it seemed she was actually more angry than afraid. "You had a chance, and instead of taking it, you acted like every other demon does and killed them!"

With difficulty, she spat at my foot. I say difficulty, because it seemed her mouth was rather dry.

"I wouldn't have wanted to work with you anyway," Kitty continued defiantly. "You're just as cruel and beastly as all those magicians you claim to hate so much. Ptolemy was too good for you! Whatever great deeds he did for you were dreadful mistakes, I'm sure. In fact, I bet you're just made it all up to play with people's minds and you wear his form because it makes you feel good about how you betrayed him! I know why you won't put any trust in me. You know why? Because you're just a backstabber and a liar like all the rest, a great big - hateful - ugly - lying - monster!" She stopped, panting vehemently, and then snapped, "So screw you! Now get it over with!"

I paused. Because, I must admit, she'd thrown so many barbs I didn't know how to deal with them all at once. Not work with me, the great Bartimaeus, of various wonderful and exceptional accomplishments, etc? Compare my behavior to the cruelty of the magicians? There was no comparison there, didn't she realize who had been enslaving who all these years? Vilify Ptolemy and drag our relationship, of which she knew nothing, through the mud? Of all the misguided, ignorant, arrogant, imbecilic things to say! It was enough to stop me in my tracks with sheer amazement, if only for a fleeting second.

And also, because she had sent a twinge through me.

So, alright, it might be my one chance to do something different and prove her abominable accusations wrong. But it would probably be wasted, since she wasn't a magician with any influence to carry out her own goals, and was a twit besides, and it would make me the laughingstock and scorn of the other spirits for ages after this. They'd never let me forget it. I should just tear her limb from limb like she'd suggested at first (disbelieving I'd ever do it, of course) and go on my merry way back to the Other Place.

All the same...

I thought of Ptolemy. Her gesture was a poor imitation of his, cloaked in arrogance and condescension, but it was an imitation nonetheless. I remembered the day he summoned me. When my whirling had subsided, he'd calmly announced his intentions and then, to my eternal surprise, actually carried them out...

It had changed something in me, that day. I had always appreciated his kindness, even friendliness, but that level of trust… It had shaken something deep at my roots.

I'd been staring thoughtfully at the wall. Now I looked back down at Kitty, and saw the unmistakable glint of hope in her eyes, bright and desperate. Because I hadn't ripped her apart the instant she'd finished talking.

"Well," I said. "You're right. Best to get it over with."

In a flash I sank my claws into her shoulders and dragged her to her feet. She let out a penetrating scream, but I ignored it. I turned one palm to the door and fired a Detonation, blasting it open. And then I hurled her through. She landed with a sliding crash in the hallway outside and knocked into the stairway bannister. It was the only thing that kept her from going over the side.

As for me, I stayed where I was, standing in the middle of _her_ empty pentacle.

"For your information," I said coldly, while she lay gasping like a fish, "there is no call to slander either Ptolemy or myself. He proved himself to me, and not as a gamble to gain my assistance. He did it simply because he wanted to show me how much he truly trusted me. He devised the Gate of Ptolemy, and he used it to follow me to the Other Place. And he paid the price, as he guessed he would. After that - well, if _he'd_ proposed a harebrained union of commoners and djinn, perhaps then I'd have gone along with it. There was no limit to our bond. But for you, well-intentioned as you are...? Sorry, I think not."

She had raised herself on one elbow and was watching me with wide eyes. I couldn't tell exactly what impression the information had made on her, but I hoped it was making her reconsider her ill-chosen words. That was the best I could do, without giving in to the urge to take off a limb or two.

"I wouldn't consider trying it yourself," I added. "Others have tried. It didn't go so well for them. Do you want some advice, Kitty? Ptolemy's long gone, and the modern world is dark and complicated. You can't make a difference. Look after yourself and try to survive." I smiled, but it was not pleasant. "A little better than you were doing today."

She was cautiously bringing herself up to a sitting position, maybe thinking that I'd suffered some kindly change of heart along with my sweetly gentle words. I bared my teeth to disabuse her of the thought.

"You're one lucky puppy," I acknowledged, spreading my hands to show my empty palms. Sign of good will, it's supposed to be. In this case, mockingly ironic. "It's not every day someone steps out of the pentacle with Bartimaeus of Uruk and lives!"

I walked forward then, drawing close, until she shrank back against the bannister. I crouched down so we were eye-to-eye.

"But I don't have to remind you it would be bad luck to summon me again, do I?"

She just nodded, a tiny dip of her chin. What a nice change of pace for once! No words, no backchat! I could see why my masters liked to shut me up so much. But hopefully, I would be rid of masters after this for a good long time. Hopefully, Nathaniel would forget all about me and never call me back. Hopefully (since that was truly unlikely), I would get at least some decent recovery time in the Other Place before he did remember.

Djinn are allowed their own little delusions every once in a while, aren't they?

I stood up, and before Kitty's frightened eyes, finally opened up to the pull of the Other Place, and whirled away in a pillar of fire and smoke.


End file.
